


isen ne bejstrum

by nikolantzov (sunstrucked)



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst without plot, F/M, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Pre-Canon, and also post-canon i guess, crooked kingdom spoilers?, no fluff we cry like men, no plot just vibe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:55:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29820426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstrucked/pseuds/nikolantzov
Summary: The ice does not forgive. Good thing Nina and Matthias were no longer seeking absolution.(—or: what if Nina and Matthias never survived the storm in Fjerda, In a Week song-fic)
Relationships: Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik
Kudos: 10





	isen ne bejstrum

**_Nina was dreaming. Dreaming of him._ **

_Isen ne bejstrum._ It was the first Fjerdan phrase she had learned in the classroom back in Ravka; _the ice does not forgive._ She had come a long way from that place, the quaint classroom of the Grisha School at the Little Palace, but only now, caught in the mercy of the Fjerdan blizzard, did she finally learn what it truly meant. 

The merciless wind of the Fjerdan winter peppered a trail of rough kisses along Nina’s skin, like a desperate lover wanting to tear her apart. Her mind was hazy with the vicious cold that crept up her spine, slowly gnawing on her bones, rendering her paralyzed. 

Some part of her was certain that the morning had arrived despite the lack of sunlight on her face because it had felt like hours since she last heard the 12 tolls of the midnight bells. Now, everything was silent, as if even the woods were in mourning. 

Matthias was holding her, in all his serenity and countenance. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed and at peace, like he was yielding every part of him, his responsibilities, his burdens, to the quiet morning. They were together and it was all that mattered —the rest of the world, the rest of the storm, had faded into nothingness, and what left, was the malevolent bliss of two hearts beating the same desperate and dwindling rhythm. 

The ice does not forgive. Nina and Matthias were no longer seeking absolution. 

“How do you imagine it would feel?” Nina whispered. 

Her _drüskelle_ drew a sharp breath, his freezing touch shyly teasing her numb cheeks. “Peaceful,” he had answered, “like sleeping to the deepest slumber. Having all your hunger appeased and your thirst quenched. Like coming home.”

Home. That was something Nina never knew. Her life was a series of jumping places and uprooting history from one town to another. Nothing seemed permanent. Not the orphanage she had grown up in. Not the little palace. Not the burned-down shelter in Keramzin. Even the second army camps. Until Matthias. 

Matthias was the closest thing to a home Nina had ever known despite who they had been. Matthias was her salvation, the last hint of light in the darkest night, the place where she could fall apart and unravel because she knew, no matter what happened, he would always have her and he would never let her go. 

He had been made to protect her, until the very end. 

“ _Roëd fetla,_ ” he breathed, “it’s gonna be okay. I have you.”

Everything was gonna be okay. ‘It would be like falling asleep,’ she thought, ‘I had done that countless times, even when I’m not supposed to’. 

They would lay there, for hours, days, or years, and they would be one with the earth, the snow, the _ice._ Her hand would be in Matthias’ hold, still, discreet, buried in between their chest, like their very own little secret to die with them. The _drüsje_ and her _drüskelle;_ their blood frozen in time, their flesh calmly going cold, their breath growing shorter and further apart by the second til their lungs cease to draw the next one. 

When the spring came their bodies would feed the land, the grass, the flowers, the _wolves._ They would be two corpses in each other’s arm, left to freeze, or to thaw. A poetry of decay. 

* * *

**_Nina was no longer dreaming. He was no longer there._ **

She woke with a start, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes shot open, a vacant space next to her on her bed. She heard him at the back of her head, a silent whisper of his voice.

“ _Roëd fetla,_ let me go.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry.


End file.
